This dam' door sticks
by Julie Verne
Summary: The boarding house catches fire and Betty won't rest until she finds Kate. No character death. Was going to be a chapter of Surfacing but there was too much death. This is the deathless version. McAndrews.


This dam' door sticks

* * *

Betty hadn't been thinking about much on her way back to the boarding house, just jazz and how to make the rest of her pay last until payday after all the drinks she'd had that night. She didn't think much about the people running her direction, or the sirens she could hear in the city background. She didn't think much until she got in sight of the boarding house only to find a fiery red glow where it should have been.

"What's going on?" Betty asked Rita, sobering almost immediately. Rita shrugged and bit her nails. People were throwing buckets of water on the building but it was going to be a losing battle even if the fire brigade showed up immediately. "Where's Kate?"

"She was right behind me," Rita said absent-mindedly. Betty scanned the crowd but failed to see the red hair that would surely be easy to see by firelight. "Wait, she said she had to get something."

And that's really when Betty stopped thinking. She pushed through the crowd as fast as she could, asking here and there if anyone had seen Kate, always getting a shake of the head in response.

And that's when Betty ran for the fire escape before anyone could stop her. She ripped off her cardigan and held it over her mouth as she staggered through the smoke to stop outside a very familiar door.

"KATE!" Betty yelled, as loud as she could, and then coughed. Her lungs were used to smoke, but not this much smoke. The floor felt hot, even though her shoes.

"Betty! Thank God! This damn door stuck again!"

"I told you what to do when it does!" Betty yelled again, then gave up and heaved at the door with her shoulder. She stumbled through, pausing just a few inches from Kate's surprised face. Without bothering to use any more oxygen on speech, she just grabbed Kate and ran for the stairwell, pushing Kate in front of her.

She turned just in time to see the floor collapse. Then she scrambled down after Kate, careful not to touch the red-hot rails. There were yells and cheers as they emerged from the smoke, Kate's hand still holding firm to Betty's. The alcohol and the shock suddenly hit Betty and Kate turned just as Betty fell forward, just in time to prop Betty upright against herself, one hand clutching her necklace, the other still holding Betty's.

* * *

Betty took a moment, leaning against Kate as worried women hurried forward to offer water and damp towels, to take in the fact that here was Kate, safe, in her arms and not trapped in the building that billowed outwards with smoke. That the smoke that filled her senses had not taken Kate or her; not today; and that underlying the smoke was the soft scent of strawberries and it had to be Kate; Betty hadn't had strawberries since Teresa and suddenly Betty had a very hard time stopping herself from burying her nose in Kate's hair. She managed to pull away, coughing, when a wet towel was offered to her. She wiped it across her face with one hand, the other still captive in Kate's. When she looked around no one was staring, no one thought it was odd, people were just smacking her on the back and congratulating her for her heroism.

It wasn't heroism, running into a burning building. It was Kate.

* * *

They were still hand in hand but someone had thrown a blanket over their shoulders as they watched firemen try their best at trying to save something, anything of the building. It looked like the only thing to remain would be the cellar, and Betty didn't exactly have fond memories of that place. Kate still hadn't let go of her hand though, and that was more warming than the blanket, but not as warming as the warmth of Kate pressed up against her side. When Kate squeezed her hand, Betty looked up at Kate's face. She couldn't imagine not being able to see it anymore, if she'd decided to leave with that girl instead of coming home…

Kate's hand loosened on her locket but was still closed around something when she wiped tears from Betty's face with her thumb.

"You're awful calm, for someone that almost died in a fire," Betty said, trying to add some bravado but failing when her voice hit the word 'died'.

"I might have died, but I got out, and I got everything I need right here." Kate said quietly, still wiping Betty's face, before pulling Betty's head to her shoulder so Betty could gratefully hide her face. Other girls were crying and hugging. They weren't suspicious.

The firemen looked them over, after dismally watching the boardinghouse burn. No real damage done, but definitely see a doctor if the coughing didn't stop in the next few days. No one asked them to step away from each other, and neither of them considered letting go of the hand holding their own for an instant.

* * *

They spent the night in a Bomb Shelter, all the girls, paired off or tripled off because blankets and pillows were in short supply. They had nothing but the clothes they were standing, or rather, lying in. Betty was one of the lucky ones; she still had her purse, and in it her pocketbook and identification. It was going to be a mess, getting that all processed again. And for Kate – how were they going to manage it this time? At least her clearance had been filed at VicMu.

Betty's thought were broken into by a slightly shivering Kate burrowing into her. They were still joined at the hand, so Betty used her free hand to pull the blanket tighter over Kate, inadvertently pulling Kate tighter to herself. She drew in a sharp breath and coughed again. Kate's closed hand dropped from her necklace again and the backs of her knuckles rubbed Betty's chest deliberately in what Kate probably thought was a soothing manner. Betty coughed some more and had to roll away from Kate to sit up and drink from the pitcher placed near them. When she lay back down, coughing fit done, Kate pulled herself closer to Betty and rested her closed hand on Betty's chest again, between her breasts, over her heart. If Betty looked down she could watch it rise and fall with each breath she took. She tried very hard not to watch.

Her brother had warned her about this. The one-night-hero. Girl thinks you saved her life, is very grateful, but in the morning she's convinced she overreacted and never speaks to you again. Betty had come across it herself; saved a girl from a stampede one time, got a kiss for her troubles that night and nothing but a slap in the face the next day. So Betty was determined not to take any of this to heart. She wouldn't have Kate looking at her the way she did that night in Tangiers for anything, not even another kiss. So instead Betty put her hand over Kate's. Kate looked up at her, head on Betty's shoulder.

"Now, what'd you have to go back and get that was so damn important?" Betty asked as she slowly pried Kate's hand open.

And she gasped when she saw what was inside.

The inside of Kate's hand held an imprint of what she'd been holding on so tightly to for so long. There was a little blood where it had dug into her. Betty picked it up out of Kate's hand, dropped it on her chest and bought Kate's hand closer to her face. She had to fight an urge to kiss the blood from her palm.

"It'll be fine, I just… couldn't let go of it," Kate said quietly.

"Of all the stupid, idiotic things to do. Kate, I'd buy you a hundred of the stupid things. It doesn't even matter. Why'd you go back for… that?" And Betty let Kate's hand drop back onto the hairpin she had bought Kate what felt like a million years ago.

"It was the first thing you bought me," Kate said even quieter. "I just… had to. Go get it."

"I'll buy you a dozen in the morning, if you promise never to do that again." And at that Kate laughed quietly and her laughter reverberated through Betty's shoulder, into Betty's chest and finally Betty was laughing with the relief of it, to be sooty and smoky and able to laugh, curled under a blanket on a cold concrete floor with the one thing she treasured above all else. Kate. Who was safe, and no longer in a burning building doing the stupidest thing with the sweetest sentiment but instead nestled into her arms, warm and happy. And when Betty looked down, Kate slid her face quickly off of Betty's shoulder and planted a kiss, almost fully on her mouth, but just sideways enough that it was ambiguous enough to be able to keep Betty awake all night, Kate's hair still smelling of strawberries just under her nose.

But the sleepy smile Kate gave her in the morning let Betty know that this was no one-night-hero thing.

"I told you a dozen times how to get that damn door open," Betty said conversationally, while Kate looked up, laughing, from her chest.

* * *

Betty didn't know what it felt like to be a hero, even after receiving a medal. What she did know was what it felt like to be a phoenix, making something better than ash.

* * *

Author's note: This was originally a chapter for 'Surfacing' but I had to change it because Bomb Girls already makes enough women cry. No burny-fiery-hellfire-death here!

Title from a Terry Pratchett's book 'Maskerade' in which there is an opera and someone is finding it hard to leave their lover but the song translation is:

"This dam' door sticks, this dam' door sticks

it sticks no matter what the hell I do

It is marked 'pull' and indeed I am pulling

Perhaps it should be marked 'push'?"

I name things after songs, so if you're new, yeah. That's what the title is from.


End file.
